


Candy

by Crockzilla



Series: Domesti-Kink with Spideypool [44]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angela Lansbury - Freeform, Babysitter's Club - Freeform, Brat!Peter, Bratting, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Gratitude Blow Job, M/M, Medical Kink, Mild Humiliation, Murder She Wrote - Freeform, Object Insertion, Sickfic, Spanking, Sugary Tidbits, Wade is a Good Dom, candy thermometer, thermometer kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 06:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla
Summary: Peter wakes up feeling achy and tired. It's a perfect opportunity to use their new candy thermometer.





	Candy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReinaQueenofDemons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaQueenofDemons/gifts).



> This one...makes me blush.
> 
> Y'all, candy thermometers are made of glass, and it sounds like lots of people use them for kinky fun, but there's a chance they could break so just ... be aware of that if you decide to try this at home.

Peter woke up feeling not awesome. It happened sometimes, and it never lasted long, but he wasn’t sure what the hell good it was to have spider-healing if he still had to deal with being sick.

“Oh no!” Wade crooned, appearing at his bedside. “Are you unwell, Honey Bunch?”

Peter answered with a groan. He had complained of a scratchy throat when they went to bed the night before, but he’d hoped it was just some asbestos from the old building they’d been fighting in. Now he felt like someone had force-fed him lava.

“Do you want to be Little today?” Wade offered, sitting next to him.

Normally Peter would jump at the chance to age down when he didn’t feel well, but today he shook his head. “I feel like shit,” he croaked, “but I’m also – weirdly horny.”

Wade made a yummy noise, running a hand over his sternum. Mm, that felt good. Peter’s joints ached, and Wade’s touch was magically warm and distracting.

“Ooh!” he exclaimed, making Peter jump. “You know what this would be a perfect opportunity for?”

Peter watched as Wade fished around in their bedside table and pulled out – a candy thermometer. The candy thermometer that Wade had bought for their Dr. Deadpool scene and that they hadn’t actually used for its intended purpose. (Well, they’d half-way made marshmallows with it, but they hadn’t used it for its intended kinky purpose – Peter had gotten a little carried away slicking it up with his mouth, and Wade had become very distracted, and the poor thermometer had been forgotten.)

“Can it read human temperature?” Peter asked, looking at the thick glass instrument with its shiny silver bulb at the business end.

Wade shrugged. “One way to find out! Turn over, cutie.”

Peter felt the wave of arousal that he always felt when Wade ordered him onto his stomach, or ordered him to do anything, really. But for some reason, instead of obeying instantly and enthusiastically, he frowned and said, “No.”

Wade leaned his head to the side, still holding the thermometer aloft. “No?”

“No,” he repeated, scowling. “I don’t want to.”

Wade looked at him for a moment, eyes wide with surprise. Peter’s stomach jumped – what would happen next? He wasn’t sure why he felt like being a contrary little shit all of the sudden, but it was kind of exciting and he was confident it would lead to good things.

Wade set the thermometer back on their bedside table. “Okay, Sugar Bear,” he said, sweetly petting Peter’s hair before turning and leaving the bedroom.

Peter lay in bed for a moment, mouth agape. What the hell had just happened? A reasonable part of his brain said, well, your boyfriend tried to start a scene and you said no and he said okay. Peter did not have any patience for the reasonable part of his brain today – he felt like death warmed over and he was horny and he wanted to be taken by force, damnit.

When Wade didn’t return to wrestle him into submission, Peter pulled himself out of bed and stomped off to find him sweeping the kitchen. What a jerk. Peter made a show of pouring himself cereal and refused Wade’s offer to make him some hot tea, even though it would have felt heavenly to his poor throat. He sat at the table and sullenly ate Wade’s Sugary Tidbits (which were absolutely disgusting but matched his whole self-destructive mood) while his boyfriend finished sweeping.

“Can I do anything for you, Sicky Pants?” Wade asked as he put the broom away.

Peter kind of growled. How could Wade not know what he wanted? His guy took his response as a no, however, and flounced out of the kitchen. Peter dumped his half-finished cereal in the sink and washed the bowl, making sure to huff audibly the entire time.

He found Wade in the living room, curled in the armchair, happily reading one of the Babysitter’s Club books that he’d found at their favorite thrift store. Peter put on his best glower and stood in the doorway a moment, hoping to be noticed, but with no luck. He stomped his way back to the bedroom – might as well get dressed.

Peter whined with each laborious movement he had to make to get his clothes on. He really was uncomfortable, his joints ached and he felt like he’d run an ultra marathon, but more than that he wanted to make sure that Wade heard his pitiful noises. When he peeked back into the living room, Wade just looked up at him and smirked before refocusing on his book.

Peter. Was. Furious.

How could Wade ignore him like this? Peter had told him he was horny, he’d told him he didn’t felt well -- Reasonable Brain reminded him that he’d also said he didn’t want to play, but how could he just sit and read? Peter made up the bed, huffing and groaning the entire time, no longer aiming his noises at Wade but at the entire, cruel universe.

The candy thermometer sat on the bedside table, looking right at him as he made the bed, and the sight made his stomach squirm. Should he just ask Wade to use it on him? Tell him he was just being a brat because this particular kink kind of made him embarrassed and that was part of why he wanted it so badly? Communicate like an adult?

Fuck that, Peter decided, roughly jamming their pillows back into place, giving Wade’s a punch. If Wade wasn’t going to pay attention to him, then he’d just go sit and read, too. That way they’d both be sitting and reading and not having any sex – perfect.

Peter flomped onto the couch as heavily as he could. Wade glanced up at him. “You okay?”

Peter huffed instead of answering, holding his phone in front of his face. He thumbed through emails but that was too much bother, then news but that was so depressing, and settled on his favorite baking blog. He was so achy and weak and so very alone on the couch that even the comfort of extreme baking nerdiness did nothing to make him feel better. He sighed, loudly.

Wade put down his book. “Peter, do you want something?”

Shit. Wade almost had his Dom!voice on, and that combined with his actual name instead of a pet name sent a thrill down Peter’s spine. If he didn’t straighten up, he’d be in for it.

“No,” he said, looking back at his phone. His pulse drummed in his ears as he braced for Wade to come grab him, but instead Wade picked up his book again.

They were quiet for a few moments, then Peter sighed, this time with a hint of whine. It was partly real – he truly felt like a pile of garbage. Wade, however, stood up abruptly. Peter prepared to be grabbed, but instead of coming toward the couch his guy headed to the bedroom. He returned with a box of tissues, a large-ish jar of Vaseline, and the candy thermometer. He set each item down on the coffee table, right in front of Peter.

“If I hear you whine again,” he said in a chillingly calm voice, looking Peter right in the eye, “you’re getting a spanking and your temperature taken.”

Peter was pretty sure it wasn’t the virus that caused him to suddenly feel light-headed. He was so turned on that he couldn’t see straight, and he knew Wade knew it as he sat smugly back down in the arm chair and picked up his book.

He waited. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t be so easily baited. But a small voice in his head, one that he always ended up listening to when it came to kinky things, told him that yes, he absolutely would. It was just a matter of time. Peter tried to focus on his phone again, but his eyes kept flickering to the Vaseline and the thermometer waiting on the table, his brain kept going to what was inevitably about to happen to him. He was so busy trying not to think of it that when he shifted and it caused the ache in his hips to flare, he let out a small whine.

Wade was on him before he could even register what he’d done, taking his phone, pulling Peter up from the couch to sit on it himself and wrestling Peter face-down over his lap. Peter tried to put up a fight, but Wade had his sweat pants and underwear down in an instant and was raining sharp, fast spanks right to the swell of his ass. He stopped as abruptly as he’d started, leaving Peter too shocked to even cry out.

“Now be good and hold still.”

Peter lay panting with his face in the couch cushions. That had felt – different. Usually when Wade spanked him there was a warm-up, slow and even hits to drive him crazy before the real fun started. Those had felt – not quite like punishment, but like they were meant to subdue him, to get his attention and make him behave. He felt his cock harden against Wade’s thigh – what had he gotten himself into?

He watched, staying still and quiet, as Wade opened the Vaseline and scooped a good amount onto his fingers. The familiar feeling of Wade parting his ass cheeks did nothing to calm his nerves – usually if he was over Wade’s lap he was getting a spanking or getting a plug put in him, but this was different. Even the feeling of Wade’s finger circling his hole and pressing into it was different. The Vaseline didn’t feel like lube, but more – medicinal, practical. He couldn’t help but squirm as Wade worked the substance into him with one finger, and squirming got him another sharp slap on his already sore ass.

“This is going to take a little longer than a normal thermometer,” Wade said in his calm Dom!voice, “and if you don’t hold still, you’ll mess up the reading and we’ll have to start over again.”

Peter still had doubts about whether a candy thermometer could read a human, but he could only watch helplessly as Wade picked up the instrument from the table. It was round and looked somehow much thicker than it had the last time Peter looked at it. The pronounced bulb at the end glinted in the light, and Peter tried to imagine what it would feel like inside of him. He moaned involuntarily, and he felt Wade’s stomach move against his side with silent laughter.

The thermometer made an obscene squelching noise as Wade stuck it into the Vaseline jar. Peter was not convinced that all of this lubrication was necessary, but it sure was making it hard for him to hold still. The thermometer disappeared from his view, and he felt Wade’s fingers part his cheeks again, then something hard and slick against his entrance. Wade didn’t circle it teasingly like he usually would with a dildo but pressed straight in, and Peter felt the bulb pop through the resistance of his muscles. He felt the thick glass shaft slide through his hole into his rectum, and for some reason that made him bury his face in the couch cushions.

“Good boy,” he heard Wade’s deep, steady voice. “Four minutes, just stay still.”

Four minutes? Peter groaned into the cushions and felt Wade laugh again. He was really having a great time with this, evidently. The small voice in his brain told Peter that he was also having a really great time if his fully erect dick trapped between his stomach and Wade’s thigh was any indication.

It was awful – the feeling of Wade’s big hand on his back holding him still, Wade’s other hand over his ass holding the thermometer inside of him, the feeling of being penetrated without friction. Peter’s face felt hot, not just with his ridiculously aroused state but with – well, something like anger. Why? Wade had low-key pressured him into peeing himself once, so why was this so weirdly humiliating?

“Look at you,” Wade said after a moment. “I wish you could see how red your cheeks are, just right on your sit-spots. If I took a picture of this hot little ass right now, anyone who saw it would know exactly what happened – that you pitched a fit about getting your temperature taken and got a spanking and got your temperature taken anyway.”

Peter moaned. Wade should have a PhD in dirty-talk. He squirmed fruitlessly against Wade’s hold, trying to get any kind of friction on his cock or in his slick asshole, but he was held fast. He wasn’t going anywhere until Wade let him.

“Three minutes.”

It made sense to him now why Wade had ordered a candy thermometer for this purpose. If he had just used a regular thermometer, even an old school mercury one, Peter wouldn’t even have felt it. The situation would still be devastatingly embarrassing, but he wouldn’t have really known he was having his temperature taken. He could feel the candy thermometer. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable as he frequently and enthusiastically took much thicker objects in his ass, but the fact that he could feel it holding him open without moving was torture. He tried squeezing his ass muscles together, desperate to force it out or get some kind of friction.

Peter squeaked a little when Wade’s big hand clenched his cheeks together, pressing them against the thermometer, making him even more aware of what was happening to him. “My sexy little brat,” he said, leaning over Peter’s prone body, “you are just determined not to give in and enjoy this, huh?”

Peter responded with a petulant whimper, and he was horrified to realize that he was very close to tears. He wished Wade would turn on the TV or something, pass the time with a Murder She Wrote episode – yes, that would feel like Angela Lansbury was watching him get his temperature taken in his ass, but at least it would be some kind of distraction. His body ached and he was exhausted and his ass stung from the spanking and he felt hot all over.

“You’re okay, cutie,” Wade said, the hand on his back rubbing gently. “One more minute and we’re done.”

He should probably have been outraged by how Wade was able to play him like a fiddle, but in that moment Peter was just grateful for it. His sweet guy’s words and the comforting gesture helped him slide into a familiar headspace – his erogenous zones still ached for friction, and his brain still screamed with the conflicting arousal and humiliation, but he could go into it, below it, and breathe.

“All done,” Wade said a short time later. Peter felt his ass cheeks once again parted, felt the thermometer slide out of him and his poor hole close around it.

“Jesus, if this thing worked, you really do have a high fever,” he heard Wade mutter.

Peter was not interested in his health at the moment. “You have to fuck me now,” he pleaded, turning his head to try to see Wade’s face.

Strong arms pinned him, one across the middle of his back, the other over his thighs. “I don’t have to do anything,” Wade reminded, and the feeling of his t-shirt brushing Peter’s bare, tender ass reinforced his words. “And what makes you think you deserve to be fucked? You’ve been a difficult little shit this morning.”

Peter moaned obscenely into the cushions as Wade slid two thick fingers inside of him. “You like me sticking things in your ass so much, I bet you could come just like this, over my lap, rutting against my leg.”

Peter’s head spun with need and frustration – it would be so much easier if Wade would just bend him over the back of the couch and go to town, but goddamnit he’d take it any way he could get it at this point. Wade let up the pressure on his back, and Peter pushed himself up on his elbows, rutting for all he was worth, fucking himself back on Wade’s fingers and thrusting his cock against Wade’s thigh. It was excruciating, feeling trapped and pinned and unable to get enough contact on his cock, but just as he was about to sob with defeat, he felt the glorious tightening at his center, and then everything went white…

When Peter woke up, he was laying on top of their made bed, the Good Blanket tucked around him. He vaguely recalled Wade gently cleaning him up, carrying him to the bedroom as if he were weightless, and curling up behind him as he fell asleep.

Wade was back in the armchair reading about the Babysitters, but this time he closed the book and opened his arms when he saw Peter in the doorway. “How are you feeling, Sweet Cheeks?”

Peter felt himself blush at the reminder of what Wade had done to his cheeks only about an hour before, but it gave him a pleasant tingle. “Much better,” he said, climbing into Wade’s waiting lap. “Thank you.”

“Was that okay?” Wade asked, all trace of his Dom persona dropped, eager for praise. “Is that what you wanted? That was so fun, why didn’t you tell me you could brat that hard?”

No doubt using “brat” as a verb had to do with kinky traditions Peter wasn’t aware of, but he’d get Wade to explain them to him later. Right now, he had a Gratitude Blow Job to give.

“I washed the candy thermometer and put it back in the bedside table,” Wade said, voice rising a bit as Peter briskly removed his pants, “just in case.”

Peter hummed as he ran his tongue around the head of Wade’s cock, making his love let out a happy squeal – he had a feeling he’d wake up under the weather again soon.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU to ReinaQueenofDemons for asking for a sequel to Booster where Wade finally gets to use the candy thermometer for its intended purpose!!!
> 
> Next in the queue are baking role play and piercing shenanigans, which I'm SO excited for! 
> 
> Domesti-kink fills might slow down for a while because I have. To finish. My Big Bang. Hopefully I'll still get one kinky fill out per week, and I don't plan to miss any updates to In the Good Old Summertime!
> 
> Got a request/idea? Chat? Moral support for how behind I am on everything? Tumble me! crockzilla.tumblr.com


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